ambivalence
by asociality
Summary: "we accept the love we think we deserve." cam/derrick.


**title:** ambivalence

**age rating:** T for one curse word.

**pairing:** cam/derrick (cerrick? camick?)

**summary:** "we accept the love we think we deserve." cam/derrick

**alt. summary:** after they pulled apart, they parted their ways, but neither of them could deny the sparks that aviated before their eyes.

**a/n:** I haven't read The Clique series since the fifth grade, so please bear with me if this is OOC.

* * *

The brisk autumn wind nipped at Derrick's always-exposed legs. He hugged the pale patina-coloured coat he had slipped on. After receiving a text from Cam Fisher, the blonde youth ran straight out the door as fast as he could to the nearby park, their designated meeting spot.

"God, Fisher, what's taking you long?" Derrick hissed impatiently.

A modulated, slightly out of breath voice apologised, taking him by surprise.

"Sorry for making you wait."

It was none other than his best friend (or ex-best friend now), Cam Fisher. as soon as he heard the reply, the strong aroma of Drakkar-Noir became more prominent. Maybe it was because he was too cold, or maybe because he was so used to it that he didn't notice. Derrick settled for the former, refusing to accept the latter reason.

Avoiding the other boy's eyes, he grunted, "Took you long enough." Cam shrugged, dismissing his friend's gruff mannerisms.

"What did you text me for, anyway? You said it was important." Derrick inquired.

"I never said it was important," he corrected, "but you know, you left your hoodie at my house yesterday and I figured you would want it back." Cam peered over at Derrick, trying to meet his eyes. "You know, we're going to have to talk about this sometime."

Finally looking up, he replied in a curt manner. "I know." Mahogany clashed with light jade and beryl. Cam shifted uncomfortably in his loosely-fitting beige cardigan.

'How isn't he cold?' Derrick wondered. "It's 8 degrees out. You're going to catch a cold in that flimsy thing you call a jacket."

"For your information, it's a cardigan, not a jacket," Cam continued, "Look, what happened yesterday-"

Derrick flinched at the fashion correction. It reminded him of a certain brunette. "It was a mistake, okay? That's all it was. A mistake."

The younger boy frowned slightly. "Is that what you took it as, a mistake? After all we've been through, Derrick, I thought it would be more to you than that."

"Look, i just don't want to talk about this. please, just give me my hoodie and we can part ways."

"Do you hate me?"

"W-what? What kind of question is that?" Derrick stammered, taken aback by the sudden confrontation.

"It's an easy question. Yes or no, do you hate me?"

"...no, I don't. I like you, like I do all my friends."

"'Like all my friends'. I'm calling bullshit here, Harrington. We both know it." Cam spat out the words like they were toxic waste.

Derrick closed his eyes and rubbed them in a circular motion. He let out a frustrated sigh and that's when a flurry of words came.

"Fine. I like you. I _like_ like you. In fact, I **love** you, okay? I, DERRICK HARRINGTON LOVE YOU, CAMERON JAMES FISHER." The unperforated statements spilt out of his mouth at first as a small stream from the crack of a dam, slowly evolving into waves, crashing, consuming the broken dam and everybody in its perimeter. "IS THAT ENOUGH FOR YOU? ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?" and with that, the current slows into a dribble, the damaged remnants of the dam appearing pitifully, awaiting others to pick up its (his) pieces.

Uncontrollable sobs poured out of Derrick, attracting unwanted stares from strangers (not that they weren't already staring at him for his prior confession). Cam embraced the teen, the dam, the damaged, broken Derrick, and they stood there, just stood there together as not two friends, _buddies_, but as one.

* * *

**a/n:** No, this wasn't beta'd. I don't know if this should be a two-shot or not, either. Maybe if enough people want it to be, then hell yeah, I'll write one more piece to go with it, but for now, I'll mark it was "complete". I don't know. I'm a huge butt.

**edit:** Ambivalence means mixed feelings or emotions. The 8 degrees is measured in celsius, not fahrenheit. 8°C would be equivalent to 46.4°F. Not that cold in Canada but I don't know about the U.S., so I just took a guess.


End file.
